


Fated Visions

by GenerallyGentle



Series: Garf, The Costco Man [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Casual hints at godly influences, I continue my habit of writing 90 percent of this in the middle of the night, Minior descriptions of (sorta) dissociation, Minor descriptions of a (semi?) anxiety attack, Reaccuring issue of levitation failing because of shitty mental or physical wellbeing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:09:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenerallyGentle/pseuds/GenerallyGentle
Summary: Although his patron god was far, far away from him... Garfield still had his knowledge.And that's all that the universe needs to plant the seed of a plan in the works.





	Fated Visions

"Come back soon!"

Garfield props his elbows up on the desk with a small wave of his hand, watching the retreating forms of the new reclaimers with a growing sense of...  
His face screws up in confusion for a moment as he leans his head into his hands, sorting through the series of feelings that had been handed to him like a sudden deal of poker cards.

The three new bureau members had spent a considerable amount of GP on their first trip and had made a surprisingly intense first impression at the same time, leaving him beaming in amusement and with quite a few fibs from both sides of their interaction tucked under his belt to reference in the future should the need should ever arise.

It was already beginning to get late. The sun was dipping further under the artificial skyline created by the base, the now orange sunlight coming into the Fantasy Costco casts elongated shadows across the tile flooring- all of this adding into the odd space Garfield knew between sunset and the florescent lights above him activate to lead him into the night shift.  
The shop was quiet and empty, void of customers as dusk settled, even the bravest soul unwilling to step into the space with the vibe it gave off right now.

And he supposes that's what began to trip him up.  
He was torn away from the peaceful sight of the descending sun as a feeling of imitate dread settled suddenly across his body like an iron blanket.  
He pushes back from the counter, casting his eyes nervously to the spot in the distance that the last customers of the day had disappeared to and crossing his arms over his stomach, the faint bitter feeling of nausea lingering at the back of his mouth  
He was used to this in a way, panic attacks were a late night forte of his- dread and fear of the future and confusion over the past were well known visitors in these episodes.  
But they had never been so sudden to crest, jumping out of nowhere and wrapping their hands around his throat like this feeling did-

It only took a moment of rising panic before Garfield simply felt as if he had been decked in the side of the head.  
His levitation spell cut upon impact, dropping him from the air and onto the floor in a dizzying moment of the world simply disconnecting from itself.  
His stomach flipped anxious circles and his eyes snapped closed in an attempt to ground himself and avoid any further side-effects of whatever the hell was happening.

Many, many things happened at once as his vision went dark.

Hands cradle the sides of his face, gentle and light in their connection, fingers briefly dragging through his fur and brushing over his ears before pulling away.  
Explosions of light burst in front of his eyelids, briefly blinding in their intensity- whites, pinks, blues, greens, and reds swirl together in a cacophony of chaos.  
A soft pressure connects to his chest, pulling taunt like a string being tied off, his body lifting to sit up in response, paws scrambling against the tension as if he could push the sensation away.

Images replace the lights, numerous and indescribable.  
And, as his eyes slid open; everything vanished.  
The feeling of dread lifted from his shoulders like a weight removed, and he was able to breathe normally again.  
He was absolutely exhausted, confusion engulfing his head like smoke and his hands full of fading knowledge that he had been given. A faint part of his remembers something from long ago, the murky sensations of an agreement made long before he began working here. A pact, a contract, a deal.  
  
The weight of a hand remained on his shoulder and words were whispered quietly into the back of his head, murmurs of assistance required and a death that would constrict at his chest if he let it come to fruition without doing something to help.  
  
The "OPEN" sign on the front of Fantasy Costco is soon set to "CLOSED" as Garfield retreats into the back storage room, truly thinking on his feet for the first time in far, far to long.

  
-

Garfield smiles and rests his cheek casually on his palm, trailing his free hand along the banded shield beneath his pawpads.

It's Magnus', buzzing with unfamiliar energy that would have had the hair throughout his body standing on end if he weren't trying to play it cool. A feeling of excitement tainted anxiety was already taking root in his brain as he went over his plan in his head again and again and again... He had to be certain this wasn't just an impulse move...  
It was better safe than sorry, right?  
  


"Tell me," He croons, pressing his cheek harder against his hand as the man in his sights shifts uncomfortably. "Can you sign it for me?"

Magnus, shockingly, doesn't seem fazed by the question. In fact it seems to bring him out of his discomforted stupor and settles him in the almost puppy-like joy Garfield was quickly beginning to know him for.  
He beams from ear to ear, placing his hands on the edge of the shield, one that was soon to be part of Fantasy Costco's stock if the manager was reading Magnus' expression correctly.

"Yes."

Faintly, Garfield can hear Merle pique up, but he's no longer focused on anything but getting the transaction done and over with.  
In fact, he considers himself quite lucky that he processes the sight of the marker quick enough to correct the situation, bracing himself one handed against the counter to lean over and pluck the sharpie from Magnus' fingers.

"Oh no, oh no dear." That seems to make Magnus withdraw a bit and Garfield struggles to hold back a series of snickers at the baffled expression on the man's face. "I meant in blood!"

Magnus takes more than a handful of moments to respond, briefly glancing back at his group only to find that Taako had wandered back to browsing the shelves and Merle remained his singular backup here... That was no help, though.  
He was entirely alone in figuring how to transverse the remainder of the interaction, and Garfield was absolutely relishing in the fact that this was going _exactly_ like he wanted it to.

"Oh, yeah.-" Magnus says eventually. "-That too. Sure."

Garfield beams, rolling his wrist in an instinctual motion to summon his pact blade and handing the dagger across the countertop. The obsidian metal gleams Magnus' hand as the fighter glances nervously from between the dagger and the shopkeep.  
In those moments Merle took his chance to speak, turning his eyes to Garfield with a quirked brow.

"It won't be in mint condition then!" His tone isn't accusatory, in fact it's more genuinely curious than expected.

Garfield shakes his head, unwilling to start up a side conversation about conditions and how the shield wouldn't have been truly mint either way, his brain was unwilling to process a whole second line of information.  
Instead, he watches as Magnus presses a now bloody thumb against the surface of the shield, bursting out into a smile backed by another round of barely suppressed laughter- dismissing his weapon and snatching the shield off the countertop in one fluid motion.

"Ohoho, I don't need it to be in mint condition!" He adjusts his grip on the shield and leans his forehead against the cool metal of the interior curvature, ignoring how the surface almost entirely obscured his form and how stupid it must have looked to the two boys actually paying attention to the interaction in order to take a few steady, deep breaths to calm his racing heart.

Magnus' voice sounds from behind the shield as Garfield lowers it to peak over the top edge, and he can tell this opening is drawing quickly to a close- the his window of opportunity was threatening to slam shut on his fingers, which would be less that adequate.

"What are you gonna do with it, Garfield?"

Garfield, conscious of the growing suspicion and sudden obvious time limit that this plan had, simply decided to avoid responding to the land-mine scattered context of the question, slowly slipping the shield beneath the counter and out of Magnus' sight and offering up the best genuine smile he could offer.

"Good transaction!" He tucks his paws contently in front of him, settling down onto the bar-stool stationed behind the register and returning to propping his head up in an almost lazy sort of way "Everyone got what they needed."

Magnus' expression tells him that he hasn't entirely bought into it, but the man has the courtesy to play along and leans into the slowly unwinding atmosphere, laughing to himself and taking a few exaggerated steps away from the desk and the manager sat behind it.

"Oh no. Am I gonna die?" His tone is light and his hand comes up to muffle a laugh, it's so obviously a joke. A goof. A poke in the ribs...

And Garfield chooses to take it like that, allowing himself to finally laugh along with the situation, bowing over slightly and wiping his hand against his eyes.  
The plan had worked, and that was all that mattered in the long run- his focus was now more well placed elsewhere after smoothing out whatever discomfort was still hanging in the air.

"No, dear."  
  
-  
  
Something had happened...  
Something was wrong.

Garfield sets an armful of stock onto the counter, glancing up at the clock on the far wall and then to the dark clouds just beyond the glass ceiling of his shop.  
It was near mid-afternoon, the time where the sun should be highest in the sky, but there was no sign of the usual midday brightness, instead replaced with gloom and people rushing about, attempting to get their activities done and duck for storm cover.  
The dark clouds hung low in the air, and the sight made Garfield bristle in discomfort.

There was a feeling of finality, and that was more than a little bit... Off putting.

Garfield sighs, pressing the heels of his palms against his closed eyes until stars burst out from the dark.  
He'd been planning this thing in advance for months now, impulsively banking on the decision to believe the visions that he had been given without context or true understanding... Gods above, he was beginning to feel dumb for trusting this choice.  
He drops his levitation spell and tucks his arms around his knees, burying his face into the fabric of his cloak and focusing on the remaining lights behind his eyelids.  
Everything in this moment is so heavy, everything felt like it was spiraling into a series of events that had been a long time coming but still *should not be happening*.

Something had been lost, and he couldn't quite grasp what it was. He just wants to remember the context of what was going on, what he was told would be going on.  
But his brain no longer held the details of his initial visions- it was just a vague nagging at the back of his head, an itch he'd managed to suppress until right now... Content that his plan had gone the way it was meant to.  
It seemed that fate wasn't done with him yet, the feeling of tiny strings pulling at his chest and wrists thrumming the notes to a song as his heartbeat slows down and his anxiety dissipates. Eventually the tears calm and he's sitting on the empty floor of Fantasy Costco.

He huffs out a handful of stuttering breaths, rubbing the back of his paws against his watery eyes to clear his vision and he rises from the tiles- brushing off the outside of his cloak as he goes.  
He tells himself, quietly, that by the end of the day that is would all be fixed. That everything would finally root itself and he would finally be able to move on from the ruined job, with his pride wavering but intact.

For now though, with gentle hands missing from his shoulders and opalescent strings streaking through the air in front of his eyes, it was just a matter of waiting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
